Page 43 of Bitten By the Basilisk

Alice would have studied the one he’d called Nic, but Silas strode toward her with purpose, the heat in his expression trapping her gaze as a familiar ache bloomed in her core, her heart rate jumping.

Like last night, he dragged the barstool she occupied away from the counter, spun her body toward him, and leaned over her until her spine pressed against the low seatback, caging her in place. A second before he would have settled his lips upon hers, she blocked him with her hand over his mouth.

“No ‘good morning’?” she asked, already breathless from exhilaration.

He pulled her hand from his mouth, keeping her wrist in his grasp. “Good morning, kitten.” His sleep-roughened voice was so sexy, but when he tried again to kiss her, she blocked him with her other hand.

“I’ve been drinking coffee!”

He seized her other wrist and held it aside. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

“We’re not alone!” she rushed to tell him before he could lean in again. She flicked a glance at their silent, frozen audience, but Silas kept his gaze on her, his brow and jaw tight, his lower lip jutting in a tiny pout.

Without warning, he released her wrists, molded his hands around the sides of her face, and pulled her into a kiss. Her gasp of surprise made it easy for him to sweep his split tongue into her mouth and distract her with it, sensually sliding the two powerful tips in a mirrored swirl that squeezed a shortened moan out of her throat.

Her eyes fluttered shut as tingling warmth washed over her. She melted against him, curling her fingers into something soft—the silk collar of his robe and the hair at the back of his head. He banded an arm around her waist, drawing her closer, wedging his thigh in between hers.

Again and again, he drew upon her lips, teasing her with his tongue, drowning her in sensation. His free hand stroked its way over the curve of her hip and down her thigh to hook the back of her knee and lift it higher. She softly moaned into his mouth, writhing against him as the ache in her core expanded.

Someone cleared their throat, reminding Alice that she and Silas weren’t the only two people in the room. She turned her head aside, breaking their kiss, her body clenched with embarrassment—from her curled toes to her tightly shut eyes.

Silas chuckled by her ear, the sound vibrating his chest pressed against hers, and damn, if it didn’t make her want him even more. He nuzzled the side of her head as he purred, “I hope when I wake tomorrow, you’ll be the first thing I see, touch, and taste, kitten.”

Holy. Shit.

He backed away, gently drawing her hands from him. She peeked up at his pleased expression, noting the slight flush in his cheeks. He held her gaze as he kissed each of her palms before releasing them, then turned to the two shifters on the other side of the island.

“Bruno, I assume you’ve already met Alice?” he said as he began belting his robe. Alice quickly wiped her lips as she straightened in her seat. Bruno could only look at her for a second before returning his gaze to Silas and nodding.

Silas finished knotting his belt and gently gripped her shoulder, close to the curve of her neck. “Nic, meet Alice York. Alice, meet Nicolai. Nic, Bruno, and I have been friends all our lives, and now they’re my right and left hands.”

Nicolai—Nic—was a little slenderer than Silas, his features sharper than Bruno’s, his bright-green eyes stunning. The look of concern he was directing at them softened a degree when he met her gaze, as if in sympathy.

His short black hair was neatly styled, a little longer on top, and his outfit consisted of a black turtleneck with dark-gray slacks. She also spied the silver chain of a pocket watch dangling from his hip.

She offered Nic a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you.”

She didn’t need her preternatural intuition to deduce that Nic and Silas had been talking about her before entering the room, nor had she missed them referring to some previous incident. Unease sat heavy in her stomach, even as she drew comfort from Silas’s hand on her shoulder and the brush of his thumb against her neck. Even as her sense for the truth urged patience.

“Likewise. You must be Grace’s daughter, then?” Nic asked, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

She nodded as she reached for her mug of coffee, now a few inches farther away. “The one and only. I’m just visiting for the week.”

Silas’s hand upon her shoulder tightened as she sipped her drink. Nic lowered his brows and shifted his gaze to his Basilisk.

“Alice…still needs convincing,” he said, his tone careful. “She can see a person’s red thread of fate and claims we don’t share one, but she’s agreed to accompany me to tonight’s welcoming banquet.”

She glanced up at him, thankfully having already swallowed her coffee; otherwise, she would’ve choked. “Excuse me?”

“Our second date, remember?” he said, his eyes twinkling down at her. “The welcoming banquet marks the beginning of my kind’s annual mating festival.”

Of course, she recalled her mom saying the local nest was hosting a festival, but Alice had neither asked for nor received any other details. Not that she’d have known they would be relevant.

And it was a mating festival? Did that mean what she thought it meant?

“We’ve arranged a couple of rather extravagant events,” Silas continued, gesturing briefly to Nic and Bruno. “As Basilisk, my presence and participation is expected, but the majority of my attention will go to you, kitten.”

She shook her head as she set down her coffee and stood up from her seat, gaining only a couple of inches in height. “I thought it’d just be you and me, not that I’d be crashing a private party, surrounded by however many serpent-folk will be there.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Silas, we met yesterday.”